Chapter Eleven
We weave around tourists on our way to the other side of the church.
If I were making a list, I’d put this under Things That Are My Fault, along with the team assignments. My hands ball into fists, nails digging into each palm.
At first, there’s no sign of the boys. Then the slap of sneakers breaks through the low murmur of tourists as Gibs sprints toward us. Andy isn’t far behind.
Gibs comes to a stop in front of us. “Find anything good?”
Isa glances at me, and I look down fast. “Not really,” they say. “What about you guys?”
“Much grace. Very wow.” Gibs shrugs. “We also found the museum.”
My hands relax a little. Maybe I wasn’t wrong about the clue after all.
“I’m not sure it’s right, though,” Andy says, and my hope shrinks. “It was called a sacristy, not a museum. It had a few religious items, but it definitely wasn’t in an attic.”
“I took pics anyway.” Gibs waves his phone.
Light pours out of the windows. On this side of the church, everything’s red, orange, and yellow. I don’t twist my hand to watch the sparkles.
I find my voice. “Not right.”
“Why?” Isa asks.
If Laurel were here, she’d know what to say. I glance toward Abba, but he’s still seated. He looks up and studies the stained-glass windows to his left, then back down toward his lap. Probably using one of his phone’s art apps to sketch what he just saw.
I keep my eyes on him, wishing I could repeat the couple’s conversation. But words get tangled in my head, especially when I’m the center of attention.
“Not right,” I repeat, but I know it’s not enough to make them understand. I take a breath, finally managing to get the rest of the words out. “The clue… it was talking about a different location.”
“Like, the guy made another huge church somewhere?” Gibs squints up at the ceiling.
“It sounds like we need to do more research,” Isa says.
Gibs groans extra loud, then dodges before Andy can elbow him.
“I think Ellen might be right.” Andy’s clue sheet rustles in his hands. “The museum part already felt wrong. Does anyone see painted walls anywhere?”
I steal a look at my teammates, who scan the church, then shake their heads.
“What about the panots?” Andy asks.
Same response.
“Maybe,” Isa says, “we’re supposed to look outside for the tiles. The clue said ‘panots de las calles,’ right?”
That’s the part that felt off to me when Isa was studying the floor tile.
“Yeah.” Andy looks back down at the clue sheet. “It definitely says street panots.”
“Not right.” I want to say so much more.
“What’s not right?” Gibs asks.
“Hey.” Isa turns to me. “You were looking down when we were waiting in line. Did the sidewalks have designs on them?”
I shake my head.
“So maybe they’re on the other side of the church,” Gibs says. “It doesn’t mean we’re in the wrong place.”
“But ‘Gracia’ does…” I force out.
Gibs waves his hand in a big arc. “How does this not say ‘grace’ to you?”
“Hey, chill,” Andy tells Gibs. “She’s just trying to help.”
Andy looks over at me, and I drop my gaze fast. “Why doesn’t ‘gracia’ work, Ellen?”
Speaking to the floor helps the words form. “I heard a couple of people talking about places Gaudí designed. They said some were on Passeig de Gràcia.”
“Huh.” Andy’s clue sheet rustles again. “Oh. The G is capitalized. I totally missed that.”
“Let me guess,” Isa says. “This church isn’t on Passeig de Gràcia.”
“Nope,” Andy says. “I’m pretty sure we would’ve noticed if it was.”
As he and Isa continue talking, Gibs shuffles closer to me. “Hey.”
When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m just annoyed that we chose the wrong place and won’t have time to go anywhere else today.”
I give him a quick nod. It’s not hot inside the church, but my face burns. Gibs is mad because I led us to the wrong place on the very first day. The others might be, too.
“It’s almost noon,” Andy says. “Want to grab lunch, then do some more research back at the hotel before Señor L’s lecture?”
Fixing my mess-up is the last thing I want to do. But when Gibs and Isa both nod, I feel like I have no choice but to copy them.
Two metro stops later, we climb the subway station steps and head back to the hotel.
Guilt weighs me down, from my shoulders to my dragging feet. All I want to do is hide in my room.
We enter the hotel, and I rub my eyes, trying to adjust to the dimmer lighting.
“¡Bona tarda!”
Meritxell comes into view halfway down the hallway. She closes a hotel room door, then approaches us. “O buenas tardes, si preferís el español.”
“Buenas tardes” if we prefer Spanish? Then what language is “bona tarda”?
Meritxell glances at me, and the question sticks in my throat.
“Hola,” Andy and Isa say together. They glance at each other, then break out into grins.
Meritxell speaks again, but Andy shakes his head before I can turn back to her.
“Lo siento,” Andy says, “I heard you say ‘divertido’ and ‘ciudad,’ but that’s all I caught.”
Meritxell switches to English. “I asked, did you have fun today in the city?”
I nod along with the others as they tell her about our visit to La Sagrada Família.
“A good choice,” Meritxell says. “My family attends Mass there each summer.” She lowers her voice a little. “Although sometimes the services are very long, and I get bored.”
Isa laughs. “Same here!”
This time when I look up, Meritxell smiles. I can’t tell if it’s meant for Isa or me, but my chest flutters anyway.
“Yeah, but Ellen picked the wrong place,” Gibs says. “So we kinda wasted the day.”
A stab of guilt. The fluttering sputters to a stop.
Andy frowns. “I don’t think that’s the right way to—”
“Please excuse me, I need to go—” Meritxell pauses as her words overlap with Andy’s.
They both go quiet, like neither knows whether they should finish their sentence.
“Actually, maybe you could help us with something.…” All eyes turn toward Isa. “We’re trying to figure out a clue about Gaudí for our scavenger hunt.”
“A clue?” Meritxell takes a small step toward the door but hesitates. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what ‘scavenger hunt’ means.”
“Una pista,” Andy explains, then looks back at us. “Um. Does anyone know how to say ‘scavenger hunt’ in Spanish? Actually, just a sec.”
He pulls out his phone. “I’ll check Google Translate.”
Abba steps forward before Andy can type anything. “My intrepid travelers. It looks like Meritxell might have somewhere she needs to be.”
“Okay, yeah. Sorry.” Andy hops aside, and bumps into me.
I startle and back up, knocking into the hallway wall.
“Sorry!” he says again.
And it’s not so much that Andy touched me as a bunch of things all piling up at once.
The itchy, sticky heat.
A noisy subway and tourist-packed streets.
Getting the clue wrong.
Meritxell’s smile.
“Yes, thank you.” Meritxell slips past us. “Adéu. See you later.”
“Are you okay, Ellen?” Andy asks.
“Just tired.” A half-truth is still true. Kind of.
“Saaaame.” Gibs makes a sound that may or may not be a real yawn. “Maybe we can take a nap. What if we save the research until after Señor L’s lecture, Mr. Katz?”
“That’s entirely up to you. I’m just here to make sure you don’t get hit by a bus.”
I understood that joke, but I can’t bring myself to smile.
“I’m actually tired, too.” Andy heads toward the stairs. “We can always do more research during the official siesta time later.”
One floor up, Isa and I pause on the landing.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Abba calls. Gibs takes off, too.
Andy lingers a couple of steps above us. “I was thinking I could set up a team chat. Then we can talk when we’re all in the hotel and don’t even need to be in the same room.”
“Sounds cool.” Isa’s already got their phone out, so I pull mine out, too. I go through the motions as we share our numbers with Andy, promising to text later.
In my room, the rumble of the air conditioner greets me. It’s noisy but familiar compared to the rest of Barcelona. For once, I’m grateful Laurel’s not around so I don’t have to tell her about my day yet.
I drop into bed and pull out my diary. If I update it with all the canceled events, it’d look more confusing than a Barcelona subway map. It’d also take forever to completely start over. I push it away.
I’m too tired. Heavy-feeling. Overwhelmed. Everything’s wrong. I don’t even want to watch the video I took. I curl onto my side and close my eyes, wishing I could start this whole trip over.